Baal is a demon that likes to make his own rules and the thought of being tied down to only one woman makes his skin itch. When he rescues the human Ranata from becoming a sacrificial lamb, he gets more than he bargained for. With Hades insisting his fate is to bond with the beautiful female, he can either resist or risk losing his heart.

One minute Ranata is tending bar in a small hole in the wall, and the next she fears for her life. When a sexy demon comes along and saves the day, his golden eyes and hard body make him difficult to resist. With her sister in the clutches of the enemy, she must plan a daring rescue. Fate however, has other plans. Will she choose the path destiny has laid out for her?

Excerpt:

Baal had never been turned down by a woman. Not once. Ever. He stared at the female behind the bar, who’d refused to give him even her name. He’d closed down the place a couple of nights ago with Seth, the guardian he’d been charged with babysitting—or had it been longer ago than that? After taking a couple of those damn pills that helped immortals get drunk, he couldn’t remember. Either way, he remembered craving a piece of the vision who currently gave him the evil eye. He still did. He hadn’t come across a female like her in a long time.

Black hair curled around her shoulders; thick lashes fringed blue, almond-shaped eyes. Add to that high cheekbones and pouty lips, and you had exotic perfection. Not to mention curves he wanted to sink his fingers into while he fucked the hell out of her. “Seriously, why are you working in this shit hole? You should be strutting your stuff in designer clothes and high heels.”

She laughed. “I suppose you’re going to promise me a starring role in your next movie?”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his card. “Nope, but I need a hostess for my casino.” He tossed it on the bar. She rolled her eyes then threw her towel aside and picked up the card.

“Dragon’s Cove?” She eyed him suspiciously. “I’ve heard of it.” She snorted and tossed it back on the bar. “Right, and I suppose you’re gonna tell me you own the place?”

He shrugged. “Okay, I won’t tell you that, but I do.”

“Please, I’m not that stupid. Why would someone who owns a highly successful Vegas club be here in, as you called it, this shit hole?”

“I came to help a friend who’s down and out.”

She reached for an empty beer bottle, rinsed it then tossed it in the recycling. “The dark-haired guy? He seemed like he’d seen better days.”

“He has, but I think things will improve for him soon. Now, back to my offer. I was serious when I said I need someone. You think about it, and if you’d like, I’ll fly you in for an interview and discussion of terms.”

She wiped her hands and picked up the card again. She stared at it while pulling her bottom lip through her teeth. He could almost see the gears turning. “I don’t get it. Vegas has to be full of people qualified for the job. What do you want from me?”

No way in hell could he tell her that what he really wanted was to strip her, toss her on top of the bar and taste every inch of her. He’d have to work his way up to that one. “You desire more than this; I can tell.” No lie there. The ability to read a human’s desire was bred into every demon. It was how the evil spread. Some chose to use it for bad and others for good. In this case, his intentions were for a little of both. “Your beauty shouldn’t be wasted here.”

“I’ve always wanted to leave but never had the means to do so.”

“Well, this is your chance.” He tipped back the last swig of his beer and set the glass on the bar. “I have to leave and head back. You can Google me all night long and see that I’m who I say. Call that number, and I’ll send a limo and my private jet to pick you up. You can have a room in the hotel. I promise; no strings attached.” His charm and demon good looks would bewitch the pants right off her. He just needed the chance.

“I’ll think about it.” She tucked the card into her back pocket, and suddenly, he was jealous of the tiny piece of glossy paper.

He tipped his head. “Fair enough.” Then he headed for the door.

“Wait!”

He stopped dead in his tracks and held his breath. Had she made up her mind already? “Yes,” he said and turned slowly.

Award winning and best selling author Valerie Twombly grew up watching Dark Shadows over her mother’s shoulder, and from there her love of the fanged creatures blossomed. Today, Valerie has decided to take her darker, sensual side and put it to paper. When she is not busy creating a world full of steamy, hot men and strong, seductive women, she juggles her time between a full-time job, hubby and her two German shepherd dogs, in Northern IL. Valerie is a member of Romance Writers of America and Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal Romance Writers.

Synopsis

The good girl falls for the bad boy.
But what if there is more to Sin Carter than a bad attitude, tattoos and piercings?
And what if there is more to Taylor Price than the fact she has always followed the rules and done what she was told?
Their pasts haunt them. Sin is trying to break free from his dark past while Taylor lives each day trying to forget about the horrors that marred her childhood.
When they meet, their physical attraction is undeniable. One night is not enough for either of them.

Pre-Order Links

Meet Regan

Regan discovered the joy of writing at the tender age of twelve. Her first two novels were teen fiction romance. She then got sidetracked into the world of computer programming and travelled extensively visiting twenty-seven countries.
A few years ago after her son’s birth she stayed home and took another trip into the world of writing. After writing nine stories on Wattpad, winning an award and becoming a featured writer the next step was to publish her stories.
She lives in South Africa with her two children and husband, who is currently doing his masters.
If she isn’t writing her next novel you will find her reading soppy romance novels, shopping like an adrenaline junkie or watching too much television.

Friday, September 25, 2015

Blurb:Walker
Callaghan doesn't know what happened to her. One minute she was living her
teenage life in suburban Chicago...and the next minute, she was in a strange
place and in a brand new school with absolutely no homework, no rules, and no
consequences. Walker Callaghan, 17, is dead. She doesn't go to heaven or hell.
She lands at The Academy, a middle realm where teenagers have one thing in
common: They were the morning announcement at their high schools because they
died young.

These high school kids are now caught in a strange “in-between” zone where life
hasn’t changed very much. In fact, this special teen limbo looks a lot like
life in a quaint Michigan town complete with jocks, popular girls and cliques.
"There are even cheerleaders in death," Walker observes. It's not a
coincidence that the music teacher is a guy named Kurt who "used to have
this band." The drama teacher, Heath, is crush worthy because back in his
life, he starred in some superhero movie.

Principal
King explains the rules -- there are none. Why? You can't die
twice.

There
is no homework. No tests. No SATS. You're just there to learn because the human
brain isn't fully formed until you're 24.

By the way, you can't get hurt physically, so race your Harley off that
hillside. But falling in love is the most dangerous thing you can do ...because
no one knows how long you'll stay in this realm or what's next.

"Losing
someone you love would be like dying twice," Walker says.

* * * * * *
Walker Callaghan has just arrived at the Academy after a tragic car accident.
“Is this heaven or is this high school?” she asks.

She
finds out her new life is a bit of both as she falls in love with tat-covered,
bad boy Daniel Reid who is about to break the only sacred rule of this place.
He's looking for a portal to return back to the living realm.

He
needs just one hour to retrieve his younger brother who strangely never arrived
at The Academy. Bobby is an Earth Bound Spirit, stuck at a plane crash site
that took both of their lives as their rich father piloted his private jet
nose-first into a cornfield on Christmas Eve.

Walker
loves Daniel and risks it all to go with him.

Have
they learned enough to outsmart dangerous forces while transporting a young
child with them? Can their love survive the fragmented evil parts of themselves
that are now hunting them down as they try to find a way back to the
middle?

I was there. And then I was gone.My mother gave me no notice that we were relocating.

Suddenly, we had just moved without all that annoying planning and packing. Somehow my clothes were thrown into boxes with shoes that were missing mates. Someone had packed my books and CDs, and had even reached under my bed into that secret hiding place I counted on to protect my treasures; like the iPod loaded with the best and worst of everything from Nirvana to the Stones, plus my lucky green rabbit’s foot—because you just never knew when you would need a little extra luck.

My mother must have remembered the family photo album because there it was on our brand-new living room coffee table that I passed on the way to my very own bedroom and a bed I had never slept in a day in my life.

It was strange because we could barely afford to pay the rent each month, let alone buy something as nice as a hand-carved oak table imported from someplace far, far away. When I had looked, the tag didn’t say from where. It was just imported.

It was one of those times when you go from A to Z so fast that you hardly remember any of the in-between. Or as I—Walker Callaghan—senior at Kennedy High School in suburban Chicago and news editor of the school paper the Charger liked to say, “Maybe it’s not about the happy ending. Maybe it’s about the story.”

Flopping onto my new, handsome, four-poster bed with lovely little tulips carved into the wood, I thought it was so unlike my mother, the master planner, to do something this off-the-cuff. My mother was a woman who made a battle plan to go to the local 7-Eleven for almost-expiration-date milk. Even weirder was the fact that we had moved farther away than anyone imagined. A lot farther.

“So run this by me one more time, Mom,” I shouted. “I must have been heavily medicated or feeling really sorry for myself. We moved? You pulled the trigger. Bang-bang—relocation?”

I didn’t give her time to answer.

“A new school in my senior year of high school?” I called out to her on a murky, cold winter morning on Burning Tree Court.

Even though I was letting the heat escape and Mom had always said we didn’t live to “support Commonwealth Edison,” our old electric company, I still opened my bedroom window wide and found that the air drifting in was stun-your-senses Arctic cold. It smelled green and fresh outside and those dense marshmallow patches of white fluff in the sky could only mean serious snow because they were roasted dark on the bottom.

I tried to shiver, but couldn’t. I was perfectly warm despite the window and the fact that I was wearing faded jeans and a well- washed blue cotton tank that read: Normal People Scare Me.

In true dramatic fashion, I couldn’t resist needling the one 12

person responsible for our fate, our new house, and everything in it that was unknown and strange. “Mom, new school. Senior year. I’ll have no friends here. Are you trying to kill me?”

Without knowing how or why, I was now enrolled in this elite- sounding new school called the Academy, which sounded quite upscale and serious to a girl whose educational pursuits consisted of a generic public-school education outside of a big melting-pot city, where you were either rich (if you were lucky) or you were normal (if you were like everybody else). Our family worked hard at being desperately normal.

“Great, it will be a bunch of rich, stuck-up snobs who will hate me—and cheerleaders. There are always cheerleaders. They’re like cockroaches. You can’t get rid of them,” I concluded, yelling from my new room to hers, which was somewhere down a hallway that I had never really navigated before.

I didn’t have to imagine it as I was living it. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time, but when I had asked that question, Madeleine Callaghan, my mom, the mover and shaker in my life, had cringed and then cried hard into a brand-new washcloth she didn’t recognize—the thick kind we could never afford. The weeper was the one who had given me the odd-for-a-girl first name, which was her maiden name before she married my father, steel worker Sam Callaghan. We weren’t just blue-collar, but faded blue-collar from clothes that had far too many seasons of washings. In our family, the rule was “Don’t throw it out unless it’s dead-dead.”

Running my finger along the smooth wood of my expensive new dresser with the intoxicating just-cut-tree smell, I ducked down on the ground to read the label on the bottom. Imported from R-19877. Really? Did we win the lottery? And what was with the secret spy code?

“Honey, please, I’m begging you,” Mom answered after appearing in my doorway. “For once, let’s not do the Diane Sawyer investigation act. I can’t do twenty rounds of questions. Not today.” Her voice sounded thick like she had a cold, so I closed the window.

“There is no need to insult Diane who probably doesn’t even have a dresser this nice,” I replied.

“Walker, let me make you some breakfast,” Mom said. “Everything is always better after a little oatmeal and orange juice. You’ll see.”

2.

Back home in suburban Chicago, Principal Amanda Stevens was toying with the loudspeaker at Kennedy High School. It was time to make an announcement that drifted across her desk once or twice a year (every year)—and it always pulled her heart right out of her chest. She couldn’t dwell on herself, but had to think of her students. Many of them knew this girl from her work on the school newspaper. What would she say about her? Principal Stevens went through the usual lines in her head: It was a terrible shame. A waste. A tragedy. It was all those sentiments that meant nothing really because they were just words.

This was a heart ripper—dead at seventeen. Good night, Irene.

Ms. S knew that she better just do it. So she clicked the on button on the PA system, took a deep breath, and said what needed to be said. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“I regret to tell the student body that we lost one of our own last night. Walker Callaghan, a well-respected senior and news editor of the Charger, has died.”

She released the on button and grabbed for a bottle of extra- strength aspirin, wishing there was something stronger. Then she clicked the PA back on again. “Of course, counselors are available,” she added.

Author Bio:

CL GABER is the
author of ASCENDERS, the first book in the ASCENDERS saga. She's also the
co-author of the YA book JEX MALONE and the sequel due in 2016.
Muggletnet.com, the world's largest Harry Potter site, did a rare review of a
non-Potter book and called Ascenders, "a book we wish we could read over
and over again." Book 2 in the Ascenders Saga will be published in spring,
2015. A trailer for the book series contains original music by Roger O'Donnell
of the iconic rock band The Cure and was produced by Orian Williams
("Control," "Shadow of a Vampire.").

As Cindy Pearlman
(her maiden name), Cindy is a well known senior entertainment journalist for
the New York Times Syndicate, with stories appearing worldwide, and the Chicago
Sun Times. A pop culture expert, her work has appeared in Entertainment Weekly,
People, TV Guide, Elle and National Geographic, and many other publications.
Cindy has co-written over 40 books for actors, musicians, athletes and wellness
experts including several New York Times best sellers. She is the author
of her own film anthology book "You Gotta See This." A native of
Chicago, Cindy lives outside of Las Vegas.

Grace Cantrell is a self-destructive exhibitionist uncomfortable in her own skin. Jason Wright is a fine-art photographer living life from behind his lens.

When Grace agrees to be the centerpiece for Jason's next gallery show, she unlocks his creative muse and dark sexual cravings. As Grace and Jason come together in a fusion of passion and art, they find themselves slowly breaking out of their carefully constructed cages, forcing Grace to confront the ghosts of her past.

As Jason captures what he most wants on film, can he capture it in real life? And can Grace risk exposing more than just her skin?

“I think I like you like this.” Jason laughed. “Not like last weekend when the cat had your tongue.”

“If only I could say the same.”

“You like me. I’m sure of that.”

“Yeah?” Her brow quirked. “What part of this exchange is leading you to this great understanding?”

“Because I walked over here staring right at your crotch.” He looked her straight in the eyes. “And I think you not only knew … but you liked it. Being the exhibitionist that you are. Such nice red panties, Kiki. Are they wet?”

She closed her eyes and breathed in deep. It was all she could do to still the erotic shiver.

“Know what else I think?” Voice low, he didn’t wait for her to answer. “I think you’d like to hike your skirt up and show yourself to me. Right here, right now. Wouldn’t you?”

A rampant bibliophile with a habit that could break the bank, Nicolette Hugo writes to savour her many lives. She loves exploring characters that move between light and dark in stories that bruise. She resides in cosmopolitan Sydney living on a love of indulgence, cats and corsets.

Keda Spencer’s life changed twelve years ago. She met a boy and he stole her heart. The problem was, they were both broken. After learning about his life, she made a decision that would change both of them. Now, they are bound together. Even with miles separating them, she can still feel his heart beating in rhythm with hers.

She recently received news that could lead her back to him. Anticipation blossoms as it is only with him that she can be her true self. But her very next thought is filled with memories and dread takes over. She isn’t sure she can survive him again. **Warning: This novel may cause triggers and is meant for readers 18 years of age and older.**

“I don’t know the first thing about your family or where you grew up. Hell, I don’t even know your middle name. I think I only know your last name by accident. My point is - I want to be someone you can trust. I am someone you can trust. I don’t want you to run away from me again. Can you give me even a glimpse of what happened to you yesterday? You seemed excited about going to the country club when we talked about it yesterday morning and then, for whatever reason, you freak on Dr. Johnson. Please, Keda. Please let me in.”

“If you want insight into what triggers memories, I can’t give that to you. I never know until it happens,” I reply, checking my watch. I have a little extra time before having to be at work. Feeling guilty about dragging him through my madness, I decide that maybe I can allow him a little glimpse. Maybe it will help him move forward. Maybe it will help me move forward. “Here, I want to show you something,” I say, turning to go back in the house.

As soon as the door is opened my heart begins pounding at the thought of him reading the letter. My palms begin sweating and I can’t seem to unlock the door. Stopping for a moment to gather myself, I’m finally able to unlock then push it open.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” I say, coming to a complete stop in front of him. I can feel his breath on my neck and before I know what’s happening, he wraps his arms around my waist. I want to pull away. I want to tell him to stop but I can’t. I wonder if he can hear my nerve endings singe as the electricity flows through me. His warmth is uncharacteristically soothing. My heart is relaxing but my mind speeds up.

“Is this all right?” he asks, in a hushed voice.

“No,” I reply, wishing he would move but glad when he doesn’t. He won’t remove his hands and I am reminded why I have stayed with him for as long as I have. As much as I want to fight him and his touch, he makes my body sing. I want to move out of his grasp but evidently my body needs him. His lips meet my neck and he pulls my body back so it is flush with his. “I need you to remember why we are together. I need you to remember, Keda. Will you do that for us? Will you remember? We are great together and you know it. I will not allow you to walk out of my life,” he says, between kisses.

I need to stop him before we go too far. It’s not fair to either of us if I let this continue. But I need his comfort. After last night, I need anything to take my mind somewhere else, somewhere that isn’t tainted with bad memories.

“Adam…” I say, breathlessly.

“Yeah, baby?” he replies, as his hands move from my sides to my stomach.

“Please help me forget,” I beg.

“No, baby, I’m going to help you remember,” he says, as he moves from behind me. My eyes move to his once he is facing me. I can’t stand for him to see me, for him to see my vulnerabilities and my transparencies. Comfort envelopes us as he kisses away my tears. His lips take away my deepest fears and my sadness then swallows them whole.

Guilt is dangerous.

It rules my life.I am riddled with it.After fifteen years, you would think it would lessen.It hasn’t.Drugs numb it, women relieve it.But it always returns, stronger and heavier.Always.The light, it is refreshing. It gets closer and I reach for it.But it is always just out of my grasp.Always.

Fenton watches his life crumble as his past comes back to haunt him. He’s searching for his friend’s murderer while trying to keep the people he cares about safe. He’s teetering on the edge and isn’t sure how to step away. Will he survive his addiction to drugs, women and revenge? Or will he be swallowed whole by them?

Piper has found herself being swept up in the storm that is Fenton. She knows he has the potential to cause her major heartache but she can’t stay away. He’s brought passion, excitement and happiness to her life. But she’s watching him walk a dangerous path. Will she survive him and his demons? Or will she drown in his current?

Nicki is the author of Lather, the first book in The Moore Series and soon to be released novel, Damaged Perfection. She is a born Buckeye turned Hoosier who loves to spend time with her family. Along with being an avid reader, she also loves animals and the Indianapolis Colts!